


Sucker

by SC182



Category: Fast & Furious (2009), Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, PWP, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SC182/pseuds/SC182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things Brian can do with a sucker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sucker

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : Property of Universal, Justin Lin and Gary S. Thompson. I'm just borrowing them for a moment.
> 
>  **Spoilers** : Up to Fast Five, slightly AU after the start of F5.
> 
>  **A/N** : A prompt requested for the Makeout Meme. Also, inspired by Lil Wayne’s Lollipop, which Brian uses to get Dom’s attention.
> 
>  **A/N 2** : Joy Ride, Running Scared and Takers showed us that Paul Walker has more than a pretty face. He has a great backside as well. Inspiration was derived from these as well.

He knows it’s a set-up if he’s ever seen one. One moment, he’s looking down at the guts and glory of a ’77 Firebird and it’s all beautiful under the hood. Trashy and obnoxious, the Firebird Trans Am is a real driver’s secret wet dream; the kind of experience that vibrates between the legs, purrs at the top of its lungs, and drives with a recklessness that speaks to all those innate macho quirks that are just _begging_ to kick up a little trouble.

Dom draws his arms over his forehead to soak up some of the torrential sweat that’s swamping his skin. It’s August, hot and the ocean isn’t as close any of them want it to be. He blinks hard, hissing silently as stray beads of sweat enter the corners of his eyes. Even without the heat, concentrating is as hard as cleaning up a gunked up crankshaft and the slow grind beats from the radio, rolling and dipping behind Lil Wayne’s syrupy New Orleans’ drawl aren’t helping much either.

Dom opens his mouth to holler for Brian to get back to work, since restoring this Trans Am was his idea, when he turns and sees Brian leaning lazily against the front fender of a Supra he salvaged for nostalgia sake and blinks hard again. Really hard.

Because Dom is aware of certain things, like the fact that Brian O’Conner is a very good-looking man. Actually good-looking is putting it mildly; Brian is _stunning_. And as he looks across the garage at Brian, who with his eyes closed, head bobbing in copacetic waves to the music is lost in another world. But it’s not Brian’s trek into la-la land that has Dom so enraptured, it’s Brian’s mouth, specifically what he happens to be doing with it at the moment.

In this brief period of cohabitation, now that they’re forced to run deep and silent after the Houdini-esque prison break pulled on Dom’s behalf, he’s getting to see sides of Brian O’Conner that he’s only seen in the briefest flashes.

Unlike Han, who eats to curb his instinct to light up and smoke, Brian eats like his stomach is as large as the universe and full of infinite black holes. Frankly, after watching Brian put away far too much refined sugar and processed carbs, Dom’s still can’t believe that Brian hasn’t blown up to the size of the Sierra Madres.

But here Brian is seemingly chilling out under the sun that’s just a notch above blazing, eating the last of a stash of Valentine’s day candy found under the sink in the house that’s become their home away from home for the time being.

If only things could be that simple.

Eyes still firmly shut; Brian rolls his lips over the heart-shaped sucker. Even from his position across the room, Dom can see just how sticky sweet it is, and he follows each sweep of Brian’s lips, pink and quickly being painted red, and tongue over the curves of the sucker.

Brian’s lips, just like the rest of him, stand out. Not thick and lush like Dom’s own, but pink, bowed and promising; always on the cusp of smirking or smiling and pulling whoever’s on the receiving end of either just a bit closer. His tongue peeks out; red like heat that beads sweat upon the brow, red like lust in the air, red like bone-creaking, back arching, muscles coiled sex, and red like blood pumping at two-hundred thousand rpm straight to his dick.

Another thing they all accept is that Brian has a less than satisfactory fashion sense, but they accept it in the way that they accept that Dom is bald, Mia has a big heart and Mexico is only temporary. What Dom doesn’t see very often is Brian’s skin, that body that is always shrouded by t-shirts too big and too plain for O’Conner’s frame.

Now it’s all on display.

Brian’s body has the tight leanness and the sharp contours of a pony car; all smaller body, sleek sides and fast as hell, where Dom is broad, dark and heavy like pure muscle stock car. Brian’s back curls and his stomach arches inward, convex and topped with small swells of curvaceous muscle. He sits as if precariously placed on the edge, but Dom knows better: Brian is where he wants to be. His legs are twisted together in his faded denim jeans, Chucks firmly on the floor, and he remains quiet, still drawing out the sweetness from the sucker with a smile on his face.

So Dom watches, eyes attuned to every movement that Brian makes while riding the rhythm of the song. Lips part over the sucker, descend until it’s fully inside, resting on a red tongue that rolls and undulates under its weight, and Brian pulls back, slides the sucker out of his mouth, only to begin again.

Dom catches it then. The small gasp, no, a sigh, that follows Brian’s newest attempt to deep throat the sucker. Maybe, he didn’t hear it over the sound of the music, but Brian’s lips open and wait to receive the sucker, which glides inside, denting the interior of his cheek, and making Dom forget more and more with each passing second that Brian used to be his sister’s boyfriend.

The sucker slides from one corner to another and Brian hollows out his cheeks to accommodate the wide red heart-shaped head. Not for a second does he act like it’s too wide or too much, Brian just opens his mouth and takes it _all_ in the way he tends to do everything else, with tenacity and fire.

Dom rises from under the hood. It’s the last place he wants to be with a hardon the size of Texas in his pants, and Brian is blissfully unaware. Brian leans forward slightly as his body catches the cadence of the music and Dom looks down his long back that tapers at the waist and begins to gradually widen and give way to the perky swell of _that ass_ that just happens to be sneaking up on Dom like Brian’s need to fellate large red objects.

 _Lick me like a lollipop_ , the song slurs.

And Brian sucks the red heart like he’s trying to hoover every molecule of sugar from the crystal surface. The wet slurp that echoes as _Pop_ in the air is the chink that crumbles Dom’s resistance. His steps are slow and deliberate, less smooth that he would’ve liked, but who cares?

Brian’s eyes are still closed and his head’s bobbing over the sucker like a whore during Fleet Week.

If looking could satisfy him, then Dom’s eyes would be content to rove from Brian’s lips, wrapped around the sucker like creeping vines on a wall, to his tight body, glowing flush and tawny from tropical sun and an ass that dares Dom not to look.

Well, he’s just not that strong.

He walks over and looks down at Brian, who has yet to bat an eyelash. From this angle above Brian, he sees, or truthfully, notices for the first time the wide fan of perfectly curled black lashes that rest on his cheek like curtains ready to be drawn. And they’re just another impossibly stunning thing Dom notices about Brian.

As the music begins to drop back and fade away, Dom grips his nerve and decides to just go for it. He’s always down for a challenge, but _teasing_ —Brian may be biting off more than he can chew, but if the things he’s doing with his mouth are any indicator of other secret talents, then Dom thinks Brian is capable of handling all that Dom may throw at him and then some.

"Can I have a taste?” He asks, amazed at how his voice resonates like thunder over the dying hiss and pulse of the music.

Without hesitation, Brian says, “Sure,” and thrusts the sucker forward.

Dom looks from Brian’s eyes, blue like summer night lightning, down to his lips, whore red, swollen and demanding attention. Looking at him with a face too still to be guileless, Brian waits and Dom, as always, delivers.

He kisses like he drives: fast, hard and full of control. His lips slant over Brian’s, taking in all of that almost cloying sweetness from the cherry sucker. The kiss is wet and sticky, friction abounds keep their lips in loose configurations and Dom reaches out and sucks Brian’s tongue, laps more of the cherry flavor and curls his tongue over Brian’s.

In the renewed silence of the garage, each wet _slurp, pop_ , and _sigh_ echoes like a gunshot. Dom’s hands, which have often felt too big and rough on the smooth skin of women, fit right at home at the hollows of Brian’s waist. They settle in there, slide down to his hips, and jerk Brian forward, allowing Dom to feel the bulge waiting beneath the surface of those jeans.

Brian unbraids his legs and Dom slips between them and draws them flush together. Slick with sweat and hot like a furnace, Dom feels Brian’s chest with the intensity of a torch through the thin cotton of his wifebeater. If he hitches Brian’s supremely long legs, _seriously they seem to go on forever_ , higher so that they rest upon his hips; he only does so to increase the friction, give his cock something hard and sturdy to rub against.

Brian moans before pulling back, his lips hovering just out of reach of Dom’s, whose dart in and out, trying to pick up more of that cherry flavor, and Brian holds back, evading him each time. Just staying back far enough to keep Brian’s red lips in view and the cherry scent stringing Dom along like a siren’s song.

Licking his lips, Brian’s eyes flicker from Dom’s eyes to his lips and back again. Dom makes an attempt to get at that too red mouth again, but Brian holds him off. So he goes for the next closest target: Brian’s neck.

This was the sort of moment that makes Dom miss those California blond curls. The way Brian tips his head back calls to mind how good Brian’s cascading hair would look wrapped around his fingers. Brian makes another sound, something between a _Fuck_ and _Guh_ , which works that spring low inside Dom’s belly into a tight coil that’s ready to spring at the utterance of just one more sound.

He drops small wet pecks along Brian’s lean neck before tickling the slope of his nose on the fine hairs on Brian’s chin. The curious tickle of stubble doesn’t stop his exploration. He drags his teeth down long columns of sinew, nips Brian a few times to leave his mark, so pretty against feverish skin, and back up to the stubborn mouth that avoids his.

“This the only thing you want?” Brian asks. He cranes his neck back, inadvertently placing more tension on his lower back, causing his ass to protrude with the intensity of a beacon demanding Dom’s attention. Dom’s hands automatically migrated south, grabbed a handful through the ratty jeans and squeezed.

Those jeans need to be burned, Dom thinks, because they conceal the relevant fact that Brian possesses a generous ass that is far more than two handfuls and has a round firmness that’s always appreciated, no matter the make or model of the body in question.

Dom mutters, “No.”

Brian bites his lips, snags his teeth on the lower one and works it before asking, “Then what?”

Dom can say all matters of things about those lips and the possibility that he can give Brian something more substantial to suck on in the meantime.

“Sucker,” he finally replies.

“What?”

“Show me how you became such a good… _sucker_.” Then, he darts in, fast as a rattlesnake strike, steals another kiss, absorbs that cherry flavor and savors it under the scrutiny of Brian’s gaze.

Brian smirks. “It’s easy.” He opens his mouth, places the head of the sucker at the seam of his lips, and pauses as he looks up at Dom from under his lashes. “Find something big and hard and just open your mouth,” he caresses the contours of his lips with the tip of his tongue and stills.

Swallowing hard, Dom’s chest rises fast with bated breath, and his hands grip Brian’s hips harder, tight enough that purple bruises like flowers will bloom over his skin. He waits quietly, the demanding tilt of his head, clearly saying, _And?_.

Brian takes a slow lick down the glossy back surface and finally, drags the outer edge with deliberate slowness along his bottom lip, without breaking eye contact with Dom for a second.

“Then you wrap your lips around it and suck until you can’t suck anymore,” he adds with an enthusiastic curl of his tongue around the red head.

“Sounds like a challenge,” Dom growls as Brian takes another wanton lick and offers the sucker back to Dom.

Brian shakes his head. “Naw, but I can show you better than I can tell you.”

“Yeah,” Dom agrees, thrusting his hips forward, grinding lazily against Brian, “I’d like to see that.”

Brian smirks, his gaze fully smoldering as he gets Dom to take a full lick of his sucker. _I’m sure you would_ is carried along as he bats his eyelashes once and returns the sucker to its original home, his mouth.

Dom’s always been a sucker for a sucker, and Brian’s going to show him that there’s no harm in having a sweet tooth. Even if Brian’s planned this, Dom is willing to let it go. _This thing_ between them was started well before springing Dom from the clink, before reuniting under tragic circumstances; it’s all about L.A., five years ago and a connection that can’t be shaken, broken or muted.

So he kisses Brian again, long, hard, with so much passion that Brian emerges breathless and halfway to fucked out. In order to make up the distance and get Brian the rest of the way, he takes the sucker from Brian’s lips and puts it in his mouth. Brian’s eyes sparkle in interest.

Fine by Dom, because he’ll give Brian a new challenge, something just as hard and bigger to suck on.

Brian looks more than ready and Dom figures thinking otherwise would be a sucker bet.

The End

[](http://photobucket.com)


End file.
